Sonnet Liii: Drawn

Drawn by th'attractive virtue of her eyes, My touch'd heart turns it to that happy coast; My joyful North, where all my fortune lies, The level of my hopes desired most. There where my Delia , fairer than the Sun, Deckt with her youth whereon the world smileth, Joys in that honor which her beauty won, Th'eternal volume which her fame compileth. Flourish, fair Albion, glory of the North,